


Furies Rise: New York City

by Konori



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Implied violence against minors, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mentioned slavery of a minor, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 00:55:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8644984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konori/pseuds/Konori
Summary: Liam Cooper was expecting his time in the field to slow down after his promotion. Not fire or death falling down around him as Agent "Max" McKillan brings a war to his doorstep.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the class version I submitted. The version that will be part of the series I'm writing will be more in line with how I normally write and be longer in length with some changes from this version included (unless you guys like this style better, then I'll incorporate more of it in). Let me know what you guys think and if you'd be interested in the series!
> 
> The next two chapters for Skin Deep are now back on the shelf to work on and will be updates once I've finished them and my Beta has gone over them. So sit tight! Skin Deep has not been abandoned, it's just sharing space with Furies Rise now.

**August 13th, 1:32pm**

The brick explodes next to Liam’s head.

“Shit!”

Shards of concrete pelt his bare arms as bullets ping off the brick buildings and sidewalk. He crouches down, pawing for his radio as he scrambles closer to the side of his Ford. His officer’s cries of alarm reach his ears. He had been standing in the shade of one of Northern Brooklyn’s many highrises, across from the Crow’s apartments when the shooting starts.

“Everyone all right?! What the hell happened,” he calls out before he shouts down the line, shoving himself under the chassis. His officers call out their numbers, all accounted for. Sweat drips down his back and static crackles from the radio before he hears Lieutenant Kevin’s grainy voice.

“Something inside set the thugs off.”

"Obviously!”

“Captain, McKillan’s team is buzzing.”

Liam feels his gut drop. Max had been with him before the shots fired. He looks out from under the truck, trying to find her, or a body. Nothing. When the hell did she slip away this time? Then, the little things the Chief and his Lieutenant had pointed out about her behavior — how she kept vanishing throughout the case and withholding information — all came together in a frighteningly clear picture. They had been played. Her absence proved it. They could get the evidence later.

“Is she with her unit?” he snaps, flipping onto his back, the hot concrete searing his arms, as more shots go off. He needs to get out of here, but the bullets are keeping him pinned.

A long pause before Kevin replies, “McKillan was with you, sir. No one’s seen her on this side.”

“Detain her unit and find her! You were right. She’s our mole.”

***

Chief of Police Nicholas Jackson handed recently promoted Captain Liam Cooper of the 83rd precinct his first big assignment back in May. He and his team were to work with the FBI to take down a small branch of a Russian illegal trades syndicate — the Crow Syndicate — based in town. This one specialized in human trade, among other deplorable things.

They had been on this case with the Feds for over four months now. He still wasn’t used to the suits’ Special Agent in Charge, one Agent Maxine ‘Max’ McKillan. She was of Russian-Scottish descent and a fighter, if the scars on her face and hands were anything to go by. She was a force to be reckoned with. He had seen her snap out orders and watched her unit comply with a unity and efficiency he envied. As much as he hated to agree with her, his division slowed her down, and she was getting more vicious with her words and more hostile in attitude as their bureaucracy blocked her from getting the job done.

***

**June 16th, 3:20pm**

“What do you mean we can’t use it?” Max said as she shoved his office door open, hand still on the wood to keep it from bouncing after it slammed into the wall.

She had barreled into the precinct — sweat on her brow and dressed like military personnel instead of in a suit — not five minutes earlier from whatever it was the FBI did during a case. She then grabbed the fan off his desk despite his protests, sat it down on the coffee table and pulled up the recliner as she shoved her face in front of it. Her short, red hair looked like she had been running frustrated hands through it the entire day. She had already been in a foul mood before he even gave her the news. Liam sighed, irritated with the Chief for making him the one who had to inform her over the phone. Jackson should have known Max would come in person either way. He moved passed her to shut the door — he saw curious looks inside his office — before moving back to his desk.

“It’s been compromised, Agent. The blood’s no good and we can’t find the weapon either. I thought I made that clear?” Liam said as sweat started gathering along his spine.

“Who compromised it then, _Captain_?”

“We don’t know. The second blood sample was fine when our forensics guy, Carl, found it at the scene. Somehow between there and the lab, someone got to it or didn’t pack it up right. The weapon… No leads.”

Her eyes narrowed and he could practically see the gears in her mind turning. A vicious smirk spread across her face as her fingers drummed against a thigh. He hadn’t known her long, but he knew enough that he recognized when she was planning something that ended in more embarrassment for his precinct.

“You’re not-”

“You don’t get to tell me that! Someone here is botching _my_ evidence. The only reason I’m not on a man-hunt right now is because I haven’t been given the orders from on high.” She snarled, the smirk fell away like a veil that let the lurking beast loose as she started pacing his office. She stopped and pinned her eyes — one dark brown, the other a bright green — on him, mouth opened to rip into him and his team when the door burst open. He frowned when he saw her hand jerk to her thigh holster; eyes narrowed in on the officer that just came in. Lieutenant Kevin’s gaze darted between them for a moment before he said anything.

“Captain, we’ve got an armed robbery at Citibank on Myrtle. Ridgewood’s Captain Brown of the 104th precinct is requesting immediate backup. Shots fired.”

“How many suspects?” Liam asked as he straightened the files on his desk.

“Estimated seven.”

“All right, you know the drill. Grab Shark and Bulldozer. That should be enough, but have Hawk on standby.”

Kevin nodded and closed the door behind him. Liam stood and grabbed his phone when Max cleared her throat. He jerked in surprise. He’d spent four months around the woman, how had he still forgotten her when she had been standing right there? She faded into the shadows too easily.

“Anything I can do?” Max asked, her gaze never wavering from his.

“No, Agent McKillan, we’ve got this handled,” Liam said firmly, mentally shaking the unease off his shoulders.

She slinked out behind him as he left the office. “We’re not done here, Captain.”

He sighed and locked the door before he looked at her. She glared at him. Dared him to say otherwise, before she gave a lazy salute and turned away. His earlier irritation returned as he watched his officers give way as she left his precinct. It wasn’t a conversation he wished to continue.

***

**August 13th, 1:40pm**

He switched the radio channel, then sets it on his chest before inspecting his arms. Some brick shrapnel had gotten lodged in his left forearm, leaving a bloody mess, but it’s functioning at least. Searching his pockets, he finds himself in luck. He remembered — after too many times going home and receiving a tongue lashing from his wife — to put a roll of gauze in one this time. He pulls out the largest shard and wraps the gash as best he can with only one hand. That done, he picks up his radio.

“Captain Brown, I need you to create a distraction for us. No casualties that I can see, but continuous fire. We’re pinned down on the front side of the complex. How soon can you get it done?”

Static snaps and crackles over the line.

“Captain Brown!”

Nothing but white noise.

“Damn it!” Liam bangs his fist against the bottom of the truck.

He regrets that as the deeper gash in his arm flares with pain. Taking a deep breath, he switches back to Kevin’s channel. “Tell me you have them detained and you’ve found her.”

Static again, and his breaths starts to come faster as dread starts seeping into his gut, before a voice finally answers him.

“I think this has gone a bit out of our jurisdiction,” Kevin says with hesitance.

“Explain,” Liam hisses at the man, sometimes his censure was severely unhelpful.

“McKillan’s unit? They’re part of the FBI Anti-Trafficking and International Terrorism division.”

“Jesus!”

The ground vibrates violently beneath his back before going still again.

“What was that?” he demands as he flips over, peering out from under the truck through the only un-curtained window that looks into the lobby. Ignoring the alerts from the radio, he can see the alarm lights going off, and without the gunfire — which stopped when the building shook —, he can hear the fire alarm. “Did a bomb just go off?”

The line at the other end opens and he can hear faint voices from the static beyond.

“FBI says they have it under control,” Kevin says.

“Setting an explosive device off on civilian property is ‘ _under control_ ’?!”

“Apparently, Captain.”

With a frustrated sound of disgust, Liam army crawls his way out from under his bullet ridden truck. The moment he’s on his feet, he scrambles inside and hauls ass to where his unit is. He needs answers. He needed them _months_ ago.

***

**June 27th, 5:22pm**

“Where’s the Lieutenant?” Max asked, her tone flippant as she sat in his office recliner — she had claimed it as her own since day one and none dared sit in it if she was in the room.  
She was flipping through the files his officers had submitted regarding the apartments they were looking into. It was located in North Brooklyn — Bushwick neighborhood —, four stories, made of red brick and covered in graffiti. The complex was owned by a Jamaican contractor with loose ties to the Crows. He glanced up from his own documents and met her intense stare. Her feet were kicked up onto the coffee table and she was playing with that red jade fox pendant she had on a thick silver chain around her neck.

“Called in sick.”

“Again?”

He shrugged and dropped his gaze back down to his desk. No one but Agent ‘Sparky’ Williams could hold her gaze long from what he’d seen. He got away with calling her ‘Momma Dragon’ too, so Liam can only guess she’s sweet on him or they were close. No one on Max’s team was very forthcoming with answers about their Commander. It turned out to be a taboo subject.

“Happens every year around this time. Allergies or something.”

“Allergies, huh…”

They sat in silence for some minutes before he dared to speak.

"Why the sudden interest in my Lieutenant?” he asked as casually as he could. She had never been interested in his officers until now.

“He just seems so dedicated. Didn’t think he ever took a day off, sick or not.”

“Sick days happen.”

“So it seems.” That was the end of the conversation as far as Max was concerned as she had returned to the files. An hour later, Liam checked the clock. He cursed under his breath when he saw the time. Max looked up from her papers and watched as Liam put everything away.

“I’ve got to get back to my girls, Max. I didn’t mean to stay this late.”

She nodded and filed her documents away too before she followed him out of the office.

“Kids?”

“My wife, Casey, and Addie, my little girl,” he said with a smile as he locked his door. “She just turned eight and still gets into everything.”

Max makes a sound of polite interest as she walks beside him to the front. Liam waved at Jill — part of the night watch — and held the door open for the agent.

“Better keep a close eye on her. Someone might snatch her away,” Max said as she passed him.

Liam tensed, dread claws at his stomach as his heart pounded and his jaw ached. He watched her get in her SUV. Max’s bi-colored eyes met his through the windshield before she pulled out and away from the precinct. Echoes of his Chief’s warnings floated through his head:

_‘She’s leaving crime scenes without notice. Withholding information about how serious this case is, and leaving us blind.’ Jackson had said as he paced his office._

_‘She questioned our division, remember? She could have been deflecting attention.’ Kevin said from the couch._

_‘She’s dangerous, Liam. She’s hiding something and only Lieutenant Kevin and I have seemed to notice. You’re the Captain of the 83rd and working with her. We need you to keep an eye on her.’_

Something was going on, and everything was pointing to Max.

***

**August 13th, 2:00pm**

The explosion distracts the Crow members enough that they had stopped firing on anyone in sight. It gives Liam the time he needs to get back to the main force without becoming just like his truck, and much more dead. His men on this side knew the plan. Pulling up and throwing it into park, he sees Max’s team set up in a tent of sorts and decked out in heavy FBI gear. He recognizes all but one face. The man is tall, well built, with a greying beard and a crew cut peppered the same. Obviously older than anyone on Max’s team, he exudes authority. Introducing himself as Chief of Staff James Holton, he confirms that he is here to address any concerns, and was the one who sent The Furies on this mission. A mission that has spanned nearly two years and looks to last even longer. Liam prays this man can reign the dragon in.

***

**July 17th, 8:05pm**

They had needed more information on the apartments before they set a date for the raid. The best place was around the area and find someone they could question. The young, male prostitute — who probably wasn’t even college age yet — gave them a shy smile before he turned away. Max had taken over questioning not five seconds into it. The look she gave him had been contemptuous. However, she had been surprisingly civil and patient with the hooker. It threw him off. The look on her face as she watched the teen cross the street just confused him even more.

“Have you ever been at the mercy of another’s whims, Captain?” Max asked as the boy disappeared down the alley across the street.

“Besides my superiors and Casey? Can’t say I have,” he answered, his gaze curious.

The smile that spread across her face… it had been sad, but wreathed in secrets. Her eyes met his as she fingered her pendant before she walked passed him back up the sidewalk. He stared at her back as she went. Things just weren’t making sense.

***

Chief of Staff Holton gave Liam a quick run down of Max and the situation.

Max was fourteen and her brother, Ruslan, was eight when they were abducted from their home in a suburb of Moscow. She was forced into the sex trade until she proved too crafty and violent for customers. Her brother was kept as slave labor until he was old enough to join her. She was thrown into the pit where she fought for survival until she managed to escape six years later, four months shy of twenty and more feral than civilized. Her brother was fourteen, and just became old enough to train for the sex trade. She had to leave him behind, as she couldn’t get them both out safely, but vowed to find him. With no living relatives in Russia — her parents were deceased —, and fearing her government, she moved to the United States, filed for citizenship, and renounced Russia’s claim on her. 

She went to college for Criminology and graduated in three years. Upon graduation, she applied for FBI Special Agent and was accepted six months later after intense training. She was later appointed to the most effective elimination team, The Furies, to track down the Crow Syndicate. She had risen to Special Agent in Charge of her team within a year and has since been tracking down the syndicate all over the world, ripping apart the threads that held the Crows’ web together. For the past year, The Furies swept through their network like the deities they were named after, leaving fire and death in their wake. The Crows’ days were numbered.

***

**August 13th, 3:23pm**

Liam runs down the halls of the Mayor’s operations office, gun drawn and dodging people as he rushes to make it to the Chief’s office. After Chief of Staff Holton had given him the short version of Max’s history, he had shown him concrete evidence against his Chief and Lieutenant. Liam is at a loss. The man he called Chief had been deceiving him, and his Lieutenant — a man he’s known for ten years since the academy; a man who came to all of Addie’s birthday parties with a smile and a large gift — had as well. They had planned to take his little spitfire in a few months. Liam felt like he had been hollowed out with a dull scoop.

The Chief was the head of the branch here in Brooklyn. Kevin was his second in command. Holton showed him phone conversations, money transfers, and encrypted emails to several locations in Russia. Most of the information was regarding U.S. government secrets, facility layouts, and agent locations in the New York area. Hacked or lifted information pays very well, and their earnings went into stock and offshore accounts in Africa and Thailand.

Despite his shock — his roiling stomach —, he was the first to respond at Holton’s command to follow Max’s GPS. She wasn’t on the scene. Neither was Kevin. The address on the screen had sent him running back to his truck. Agent Sparky had followed him.

“Gotta have back-up when Momma D’s like this, man. She’ll rip you apart if I’m not there,” he’d said as he climbed into the passenger seat.

He slows as he approaches the door, leaning beside it and listening hard for voices. Sparky is off to the side, unnervingly calm. They’re muffled, but at least he hears Jackson’s deep baritone and Max’s vicious snarling. He shoves the Chief’s heavy, wooden door open, gun ready to aim as his eyes sweep the room. The window had been smashed in from the outside; the shards scattered on the tan carpet. Several tables and lamps have been knocked over and shattered; blood stains on the carpet. Max is off to the side, a black eye, pants ripped, and the white lettering of FBI on her black vest is stained red. She holds both Chief Jackson and Kevin at gunpoint. Ambidextrous, making her that much more lethal. Heterochromatic eyes never wavering from the Chief — the man is favoring his left side and his face is starting to swell. Red, speckled and smeared, on her face and arms make the massacred Crow members his men spoke of a reality he hadn’t believed.

She’s a dragon after it’s stolen hoard and nothing is going to stand in her way.

He pulls his eyes from the bloody, Kevlar covered beast to see that Kevin’s on one knee in the middle of the room. His back is to Liam. His right hand is bleeding and shoved under his left arm. Another gunshot wound has to be right above his right knee — there’s a pool of blood gathering there. He’s holding his gun at her. His hand’s shaking. A large, serrated blade lays on the floor between he and Max. Liam can guess as to what happened.

“где мой брат?!” she roars in Russian at the Chief.

Jackson remains silent, gun aimed at her chest, before glancing at Liam.

“I have no idea what you’re saying, Agent. Captain Liam, why don’t you relieve McKillan of her guns, hm?”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. He’s frozen in the doorway.

“Liam-”

“He’s not doing anything I don’t tell him to do, Jackson. You’ve been under investigation for six months. We know exactly what you and the Lieutenant have been up to. _You_ understood me perfectly.” She’s smiling, baring her teeth like a wolf getting ready to rip its prey’s throat out. Her eyes are wide, the blood stark against her pale, mole flecked skin, making the image even more frightening. “Where is my brother? I won’t ask again.”

The hairs along his back and neck rise. If he doesn’t do something, the body count is going up. One or three, he doesn’t want to chance it. Casey would just bring him back to kill him all over again if he dies.

“Max, Holton told me… showed me everything,” Liam says.

She says nothing. Her eyes narrow and the smile shifts into a sneer.

“Max, we have to bring them _in_. They can’t tell us anything if they’re dead.”

“Fine,” she says when the silence drags on.

A small sigh leaves him as relief uncoils his gut.

Two shots in rapid succession. His ears ring as he drops to the ground — her silencers kept him from going deaf. Liam watches Kevin’s body slump to the side — the back of his skull is blown out and leaking. A loud thump. Jackson’s body has fallen as well. Same wound. The sound of a clip being replaced and cocked makes him drag his gaze up from the floor. Max hasn’t moved, but a gun is now pointed at him. Her eyes are hard. Her face wiped blank. 

She’s going to shoot him. His body starts trembling.

“Momma D! Grampa Holton’s not gonna be too happy if you shoot the only decent one,” Sparky trills as he finally steps into the room. The techy idiot completely ignores the gun pointed at him when he steps between them. Liam can’t see anything but the FBI on the back of his vest, but Sparky must have done something because one gun clicks as the safety is engaged.

“Of course you’re here,” Max huffs, the other gun clicking moments later. “I wasn’t going to shoot him.”

“Takin’ precautions, you know, Gramps’ rules. ‘Sides, can’t let you have all the fun.”

She huffs, “Computer. Go.”

“Aye, Mon Capitaine!” The man skips over to the former Chief’s desk and flops down in the chair, completely ignoring the body right behind him as he hums.

“What are you doing?” Liam manages to spit out despite his tremors. Max continues to ignore him. The sound of humming and the clicking keys fills the silence as she moves around the room. She keeps well away from his reach after she holsters her guns and retrieves the knife he saw. Liam looks to Sparky. “As commanding officer of the NYPD 83rd precinct, I’m-”

“Your job is done, Captain,” Max snaps as she wipes the blade off on her pants before grabbing a book from the shelf, flipping to a certain page, then tossing it to the ground.  
He avoids looking at Kevin’s body as he shoves himself up onto his feet, eyes never leaving Max — her right hand falls closer to her gun as he moves.

“Why did you do this?” he asks, noticing the movement but ignoring it as he struggles to keep himself from raising his gun at her. His fists clench, one palm digging painfully into his firearm. “Why did you kill them?! You had enough evidence to bring them in for questioning. Now we have no leads to the syndicate _or_ your bro—”

“Your division’s part in this operation ended when we had sufficient evidence of their involvement. This was never a detain and question assignment, _Captain_. This is an FBI mandated elimination operation,” she snaps, whirling on him; her eyes wide and muscle tense. “As this has turned into, yet _another_ , thread in the web the Crows have woven, _we_ are-”

“Fox,” comes Holton’s voice from the door. Max stiffens, mouth snapping shut as she looks beyond him. He turns and sees the man standing there — arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face. “That’s enough. Keep your temper in check or I’m sending you back to DC.”

Liam looks over his shoulder. Max glares at her Chief before closing her eyes and a strained, toothy grin spreads across her red war-painted face before she turns and slinks away to another bookshelf.

“Bloodthirsty brat,” Holton huffs as he comes up beside him. “Captain Liam, follow me, please.” Holton leads him down the hall passed the other members of The Furies. “I’m sure you know this operation needs to be kept as quiet as possible. Sparky will provide you with the official story before we leave, but I’ll need your witness account for our report.”

“Is it going to take long?” Liam asks, limbs twitching with lingering shakes.

“No longer than it takes for you to speak.”

Liam is silent for a time until Holton bids him to sit on a bench near the building’s entrance. He gives Holton his statement, thoughts drifting and only responding to direct questions, before the greying man brings him to an FBI med team outside. He’s cleared to go only minutes later with a card for a local shrink and pitying glances. They must deal with this a lot on Max’s cases.

“My team will handle the body clean up, but we’d appreciate it if you saw to the prostitutes and kids back at the complex. After which, I suggest some time off, Captain. Rest. Be with your family. Come back ready to lead the NYPD,” Holton says as he leads Liam to his own truck. Liam looks at the man sharply, his face twisted in confusion.

“I’ve had words with the Mayor. He’s as clean as to be expected of a politician but nothing ties him to the syndicate. He’s decent enough. You’ll be promoted to Chief of Police when you return. You’re the only one we can trust with the position at this time.”

Liam stares at the man for a moment, not really believing what he’s heard. “Why?”

“Max suggested it,” he says with a shrug. “I trust her judgement on these things.” Holton shoves him into the passenger seat, snatching his keys handing them to an agent. The drive home is quiet. He doesn’t feel much like talking anyway. He’s wrung out and exhausted.

He isn’t sure who to trust anymore. The Crows seem to get into every niche in society, infecting the places meant to help the people. He’s not sure he wants to go back either. However, with this promotion, he could weed out those who were too corrupt or unfit for duty at the NYPD. He would ensure that something like this didn’t happen again.

The agent helps him out of his truck and brings him to his door. It swings open with a bang as Casey flings herself into his arms and Addie clings to his legs, both of them in tears.

Three weeks later, a small package arrives addressed to him and his family. Inside are three red jade fox pendants on thick silver chains and a small pamphlet.

_Captain,_

_Red jade is used to dispel fear and inspire one to act; the stone of warriors._

_Think of them as a preventative measure instead of spying._

_M_

**Author's Note:**

> As with my commentary on Skin Deep; flames will be ignored like my grandmother's comments to hurry up and have children (sorry grandma, I'm ace and don't even like babies, much less children...). Constructive criticism will be adored and kudos and awesome comments will make me smile like a maniac.


End file.
